A Second Chance
by KenzieJacksonPotter
Summary: Harry Potter, 21 years old and still fighting Voldemort, has lost everything dear to him. Last of family and all his friends...dead. When, by some miracle, he is offered a second chance, he takes it. He is shot back to the past, in the summer before fifth year, before his godfather had been killed. He keeps secrets, retakes OWLS, protects his friends, and lives a little. OC! Harry
1. Chapter 1: Meeting Miracle

**- - - - - - - - - - AUTHORS NOTE! - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -**

**HI GUYS! Ok, so like, this is my first story EVER! I'm so excited! Ok, so first I just want to clear up somethings with my story.**

**1. This will contain a slightly OC!Harry. He has changed. He does go back through time so he won't be the same innocent and naive kid who doesn't think things through.**

**2. SIRIUS WILL LIVE! He has to. Honestly, when he died, I stopped reading and burst into tears. Yes, it was that sad for me. He's one of my favorite characters. Also, Remus and Tonks will live(I haven't decided if they'll be together or not yet) and a lot of the characters that died in the original book will live. Not all, but some.**

**3. SO, since Harry is twenty one year old -though stuck in a fourteen or fifteen year old's body- he will not be settling down right away. If he ever does settle in my story. He is the son, godson, and honorary nephew of the Marauders and will be both a trouble magnet and a chick magnet. Also, as a 21 year old from the future, he's not really going to be looking for relationships, probably just girls to fool around with. I'm going to probably make him charming, a ladies man, and a bit of a player. But he wont intentionally break hearts. If and when I do pair him up, it won't be with Ginny. I really, really hate that pairing. Seriously, she's a stalker that looks a ton like his mum. Why would he date her? *shudders***

**4. I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER. Or Sirius. Or anything in the Harry Potter world. J.K. Rowling owns it all.**

**5. This is rated M. For Mature. There will be some suggestions of adult activities, there will be coarse language, and there will be a healthy does of violence.**

**NOW! ON WITH THE STORY!:**

**CHAPTER 1: MEETING MIRACLE**

_Twenty one year old Harry Potter stood on the rubble remains of Hogwarts, facing Voldemort. Harry's green eyes were dark and haunted, filled with greif of the loss of his friends, the only family he had known. Cedric, Sirius, Dumbledore, Hermione, the Weasley's, the Lupin's, the Order, Ron, Neville, Luna...everyone he had ever cared for. Gone. _

_But there was a fire to those eyes as well, full of determination. Of vengeance, anger, and rage. Of finality. This would be the last fight between the two._

_In this time anyways._

_Harry wore bloodstained and tattered robes, ruined from his time fighting. His muscular arms, aside from cuts, burns, and scrapes, had runes tattooed on them. He stood at six feet tall, hair reaching his shoulders, and wand in hand. He was prepared. For the last four years, he had been trained by many- in between fighting Death Eaters of course._

_The two men (if Tom Riddle could be counted as one) circled each other, each in an offensive stance. Spells were fired rapidly at each other. Then, the inevitable came._

_"AVADA KEDAVRA!" Voldemort yelled, causing a green light to shoot towards Harry._

_"Avada Kedavra!" Harry cast. He didn't mind using the killing curse on Voldemort. He deserved it. And after all. Magic is neither light or dark. It just it._

_The two spells collided together, and once more, a golden webbed dome surrounded the two wizards. Except this time, the magic was stronger. The gold of the dome glowed more and more, brighter and brighter, until it became a bright white flash and Harry knew no more._

_When Harry awoke, he was in what looked like Kings Cross, except empty, cleaner, and silent. His paranoia kicked in and he reached for his wand, soon finding that in was not in it's usual spot on his forearm. It was gone. Looking down, he realized that he was dressed in plain, black robes, though they were clean and unripped, and he was without any cuts, bumps, or bruises. Wary, he shifted into a defensive stance, cautiously looked around at his surrounding. Something wasn't right here._

_"Harry."_

_His head snapped up in the direction of the musical voice. A young woman stood in front of him, a soft smile gracing her lips. She wore white robes with blue trim, had brown hair, and blue eyes to rival Dumbledore's. She had a beautiful, timeless face, the sort that made you feel at home, despite Harry not having a clue where he was._

_"Harry." She spoke again, and Harry's brow creased. Who was she? He voiced his thoughts, and she smiled. "I am many people. Fate. Time. The Creator of the Paths. The Decision Maker. A Second Chance. You may call me Miracle." She tilted her head slightly at him. "But, for you, I am most importantly a second chance. You, of all people, are the one who will take it."_

_"Second chance...? What? I thought I was dead. Where am I" Harry was beyond confused._

_"You, Harry, are wherever you think you are. But I assure you, you are not dead. But you are neither alive." Miracle waved her hand, and two green armchairs appeared. "Please, sit."_

_Harry sat, never taking his eyes off the lady. She delicately set on the chair, and began to explain._

_"As I said, I help create the paths. I help make the decisions. I decide whether good or evil or both will win." She shifted slightly and looked at Harry with a piercing gaze. "This was not supposed to happen. Your loved one...they were not meant to die"_

_Harry let out a bitter laugh that had Miracle looking at him sadly before she continued. "They were supposed to live, to give you a reason to fight, a reason to live. You have simply been fighting so everything could end, living only so you could end it as you are the only one who can. You never should have lived such an unhappy life, carry such weight on your shoulders, or have so much grief, such guilt. There is only so much I can change though, and for that I apologize._

_Harry met her eyes with a bewildered, tired gaze. "What the bloody hell are you talking about?"_

_"Harry, the world you live in...lived in, was not supposed to be like that, was not supposed to be so dark, so horrendous, so corrupted." Miracle made a face in thought of the trials that the world had gone through. "I -to be blunt- screwed up. Rather badly too. I am giving the world, and you, a second chance. You, Harry, are my hope, my champion. You will be the one that, with my help, will change the world to good, as it should be. I am going send your mind, your skills, your abilities, and anything else that is crucial back to when things began to fall apart. When you were turning fifteen. When your godfather died. Will you please take this second chance?"_

_Harry's heart almost stopped in his chest. Sirius. He could save Sirius. This- This Miracle would give him a shot at fixing everything. At changing everything. He would be able to stop Voldemort, save everyone who died, he could have a family, learn to be a teenager , on the bright side, he would be able to ace his OWLS. He lifted his head and looked Miracle in the eye._

_"I'll do it."_

_Miracle clasped her hands together and beamed. "Good! Now, let's get down to business. I'll be sending you back to the day after you return the the Dursley's."_

_Harry frowned, thinking of himself back then. He was short, scrawny, malnourished, and no way was he in battle condition. Also, he didn't have the runes tattooed on his body like he did now. Glancing at his arms, he remembered what they all stood for. There were some for health, protection against minor spells and curses, some that lessened pain, and others that helped with physical endurance. He voiced his thoughts to Miracle, causing her to purse her lips._

_"I can't give you your present physique back, since it would look odd to your Order guard if you went through that much of a make over in a day, and glamours can only hide so much." She narrowed her eyes in thought. "I'll send you back with your magically expanded trunk so you can brew Sight Solutions and Nutrient Potions, along with any others. It also had training equipment, plus I can pop in from time to time for updates and if you ever need any advice. Though I suggest making a point to exercise and eat healthy while you know the Order is watching. You'll have to re-rune yourself, not that it'll take too much work. I also suggest talking to Professor McGonagall about switching your classes to A. explain your knowledge and B. Give you a shot a a good career when this is over."_

_Harry nodded, still thinking of anything else that may be a problem. "Can I tell anyone about me coming from the future?"_

_"Well," Miracle answered, "I would keep it to yourself until you get to Grimmauld Place. I would only tell Sirius and Remus then, so you have someone on the outside that can help you. Also, you need Sirius' help in getting the Hufflepuff cup. Make sure that they swear not to tell anyone though. Also, I know that at some point Dumbledore will get suspicious, but only tell him when you need to. And, though Ron, Hermione, and the rest of your friends may get suspicious, I would hold off on telling them. Maybe even keep it until it's all over." When Harry opened his mouth to object, she held up a hand. "I know that they're your best friends, but they will want to help you. And, as you will have more knowledge than them, they will hinder you while you hunt for Horcruxes and will be less mature and knowledgeable than you when it comes to, well, anything."_

_Harry nodded, knowing she held a valid point. Ron and Hermione may be his best friends, but now this was his mission, and there would be no gain of them knowing anything. Miracle rose, Harry following her lead._

_"Now, I think that's all, but one more thing, Harry." Miracle looked him in the yes. "I want you to live in the present, be a teenager. You're young, live a little." She smiled mischievously. "You are, after all, a Marauder. Cause some trouble, wreck some chaos. Remember, there is time to spare. Don't get tunnel vision on destroying Voldemort. Good luck."_

_And with that parting comment, she kissed him on the forehead, a blessing of sorts. Harry felt a lurch and Kings Cross Station blurred out. Colors flashed past him, voice that he couldn't make out were heard, The voices rang louder and louder and the colors flashed faster. Soon, the colors faded to black and he knew no more..._

**ALRIGHT! One Chappie down! GO ME! Can't wait to load up the next one! ADIOS!**


	2. Chapter 2: Hello Again

**CHAPTER TWO: HELLO AGAIN**

When Harry came to his senses, he was lying on an uncomfortably familiar bed in an unfortunately familiar room. He was in Dudley's second bedroom of the Dursley household. His face twisted in distaste at the thought of it, then looked out the window, sliding the falling glasses up his nose. It was morning, the sun still rising, which was good, as he would have the day to start brewing the necessary potions and get reacquainted with the year of 1995.

He rolled off the bed, his eyes scanning over his new-old trunk; black dragon hide with "Potter" embossed on it. It had five different compartments in: A regular school compartment, that was mainly a decoy; a training room, fit with muggle gym equipment and wizard dueling dummies; a massive library; a potions lab; and finally, an apartment space complete with two bedrooms, a kitchen, a master bath, and a living room. It was perfect for damn near everything. Harry loved magic.

A soft hoot made Harry turn around and a smile light up his face. Hedwig. Last time, she had been killed with a misplaced Avada Kedavra that was meant for him. He had missed her dearly.

Shaking himself from his thoughts, he tapped his trunk with his wand, which had been rested on his desk, and muttered his password "Marauders" and saying "Potions Lab". The trunk popped open and Harry jumped inside, landing in a room that held a likeness to Snape's class in Hogwarts. There was another door inside that led to an ingredients storage room, and another that led to a storage room for finished potions. Harry walked into the storage room of finished potions, frowning when he saw that there was no Nutrient Potions left. He would have to triple the batch and drink one with each meal if he wanted to get into shape. He would probably make more and slip them into Sirius' food so his godfather could regain the health that had fallen during his time on the run and in Azkaban.

Harry grabbed to Sight Solution, then walked into the ingredients cupboard, grabbing everything he needed for a triple batch of Nutrient Potions. He need the brew by heart, and took a large cauldron from the shelves before getting to work.

He found that he was quite good at Potions when he didn't have a greasy dungeon bat hanging around him. Last time, he had brewed many bottles of potions for the injured for St. Mungos, Madame Pomfrey, or simply when he didn't have a Healer on standby and needed to help someone or himself. He found himself making corrections to recipes, adding a drop more of hellbore here, and a counter-clockwise stir there. It had surprised him but he took it in stride, knowing that it would be helpful in the future, as it proved to be now.

After three hours of brewing, he cooled the potion and bottled them all, counting over seventy in total. He stocked them away, only taking one Nutrition Potion and the Sight Solution for him back up to his bedroom. He then entered the apartment compartment of the trunk, and cooking himself breakfast and chugging the Nutrient Potion. Ugh. He made a face. Potions still tasted awful.

He braced himself before taking the Sight Solution. For a good twenty minutes, all Harry could feel were his eyes burning with white-hot pain and his head pounding. God, it burned. As much as he hated glasses, he wasn't too big of a fan of pain, especially without his runes on.

When the pain finally stopped, he opened his eyes back up and looking around with crystal clear vision. Satisfied, he got up from the table and vanished the two empty potions vials. He rubbed his hands together in anticipation. He had work to do.

Over the next three weeks, Harry worked like a dog. Every morning he would get up at 5:00 AM. He then went through the following exercises:

15 mile run

100 sit-ups

50 push ups

75 chin ups (off of tree branch)

The first time he had went on his run, he could hear the Order guard huffing and puffing before they finally just apparated under their Invisibility Cloak every block. When he ran again, later that day, they had ridden on a broom.

He put aside a few hours in which he finished all of his homework. He also redrew the runes, which wrapped around his upper arms. He put a glamour of them so if a muggle saw them, they would just think that they were Celtic or Norse symbols. Just for fun, he charmed the tattoo machine to give himself a Hungarian Horntail that wrapped around the left side of his torso. Once that was out of the way, his old battle-ready physique slowly but surely returned to him.

He was also debating about what to do with the prophecy. He didn't really like the idea of Voldemort getting his hands on the prophecy; but getting it out of their would be tricky. Death Eaters were everywhere in the Ministry, add to the fact that their was only a few people who like him their, and even less who wanted him to hear the prophecy...tricky indeed. He then decided to send Bertie Croaker, Head of the Unspeakables, a note.

_Dear Mr. Croaker,_

_It has been brought to my attention that in the Hall of Prophecy, there is one orb marked "S. P. T. to A.P.W.B. D. Dark Lord and (?) Harry Potter". I would appreciate if I could schedule an appointment in one of your viewing rooms, under the name of Teddy Smit, on August 12th. I hope you can sympathize with my current situation and use the utmost discretion._

_Sincerely,_

_Harry J. Potter_

Harry could only hope Croaker would keep the whole meeting hush-hush. As the Order never had guarded the Hall of Prophecy in the day when the Unspeakables were there, they would not be a problem either, and he was sure that he would be able to sneak away from Mr. Weasley (as it would be on the same day of his disciplinary hearing), as he would also try to speak with Madame Bones on the same day.

Harry was also looking up every law that would help him not only win his case against the Wizengamot, but also piss Fudgie-boy off so much that he would look like a fool in his own courtroom, bring an inquiry, not only about how the Dementors would be getting to Little Whining, but also into Fudge's activities, and (hopefully) bring Sirius' innocence to light.

Needless to say, he was very busy.

Hermione and Ron continued to send notes full of the usual bullshit of how _"Dumbledore isn't letting us tell you anything"_ or _"I can't say where we are or what we're doing but-" _or the worst _"There's a fair amount going on, but I can't tell you"._ Honestly, if they can't tell him, why dangle it in front of him like a bone to a dog. He sent the bare minimum of replies back to them, only saying _"I'm fine" _or _"Yes, Hermione, I have finished my homework, and no, you don't need to read it over"._

He found himself corresponding with Sirius and Remus much more than before, them writing about their adventures as Hogwarts students and their pranks while Harry entertained them with his experiences at Hogwarts, what he was doing (to an extent), or how the brunette in Number Sixteen was totally giving him a booty call (which after two weeks of flirting and exaggerated winking, he totally took up).

Harry found himself longing to be a Grimmauld Place, to see Sirius in the flesh, to see all of them still alive.

So when the day of the dementors came, Harry was more than ready.


End file.
